


Broken Birds Can Still Fly

by AngelWithAStory



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Damian has a heart, Male-Female Friendship, Past Character Death, Recovery, Sibling Rivalry, Steph understands and is proud, TW: Self Harm, past depression references, post final crisis, sneaky!Damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all had scars. It was impossible to do what they did without collecting a few along the way - the only difference was how they dealt with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Birds Can Still Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this but my own crappy post-depression struggles have been hounding me for a while and I'm trying to channel that into an upcoming art project so they're quite close to the surface at the moment.   
> I apologise if self-harm makes anyone uncomfortable - in which case you should probably stop reading - but I felt that I needed the outlet.   
> but I put in a bit of sibling fluff so it wasn't too dark.

“What’s this?” Dick asked, gripping Tim’s arm and holding it closer to his face. 

Tim snatched his arm away, pulling his sleeve back down. He was out of uniform; just dropping by the manor like he promised he’d do every so often. 

“My arm.” He replied shortly. 

“That’s not what I meant, Tim.” Dick said. He kept his voice quiet and open but the concern shone through and it made Tim feel almost ashamed. Dick had his cowl pushed down, having been chasing leads all day as Batman. 

“Give him a break, Dick.” Stephanie chided, descending the stairs to the cave. She pulled off her cowl and made a bee-line for the computer, shaking her hair out as she went. Damian wasn’t far behind, looking sullen as usual. 

“It isn’t like you don’t have a few scars from being Nightwing.” Steph berated. “Hope you don’t mind but I need to use the database for a bit.” She added, typing away at the keyboards. 

“I’m not saying that, Steph.” Dick defended. “I’m just wondering about where they came from.”

“Where all the other scars came from, probably.” Steph said absent-mindedly, pulling up a few files of various criminals she was obviously on the hunt for. 

“Steph,” Tim spoke up. Steph looked around at him, something in his voice distracting her. “Just drop it please.” 

“Hey, I’m on your side, Tim.” Steph said, looking him in the eye. He gaze clearly said ‘ _I know_ ’.

“And I appreciate it Steph, I just don’t want to talk about it.” Tim admitted, holding the cuffs of his sleeves in his fists. Damian looked at him curiously.

“What are you going on about?” He asked, sounding genuinely confused – not that that meant much when talking about Damian.

“Nothing, Dami. Come on; tell me what happened on patrol.” Dick said, turning in the chair to face Damian. Damian glanced at Tim and then to his sleeves. Tim resisted the urge to hide his arms behind his back.

Eventually, Damian looked away, casting one last distrusting look at Tim before starting up a conversation with Dick about the patrol.

 

Damian was never one to let something go once it piqued his interest – especially if it seemed like Drake came out on top - which is why Damian was standing outside Tim’s bedroom door in the middle of the night, making no noise as he opened the door.

His bright eyes peered into the darkened room, checking to make sure the occupant was still asleep. The telltale noise of soft breaths (which a hint of a snore, Damian noted down for later use in humiliation techniques) gave the young boy the go ahead and he stepped inside, shutting the door noiselessly. In a few strides he was stood beside the bed.

He quickly checked that Tim was, in fact, still asleep. Tim slept on his side, legs tucked up to his chest which his arms on the pillows beside his head. Damian vaguely remembered Dick telling him ‘funny’ stories of Tim when Tim was Robin and how apparently he wouldn’t sleep for a few days and then they’d just find him passed out in various places around the manor.

Damian only remembered because he was still waiting for the time to remind Tim of it just to gain the upper-hand.

The assassin’s arm reached out and gripped Tim’s wrist, pushing the sleeve back.

The arm was yanked out of his grip and Damian looked up to see Tim sat up on the bed, flicking the light on with his other arm raised ready to strike the attacker. In one fluid motion, Tim had done all that and moved half a foot away, his body language screaming ‘defence’.

Tim focused on Damian’s face and visibly relaxed, raking a hand through his too-long hair.

“What the hell, Damian?” Tim demanded, looking torn between hitting Damian and just kicking him out. “What are you doing in my room?”

Damian looked a little bit guilty at this point which threw Tim off (maybe because he knew Damian’s acting skills were very good)

“Why were you looking at my wrists?” Tim asked, sounding suspicious. Damian still didn’t say anything and Tim sighed, moving to the edge of the bed. “Go back to your room, Damian-”

“Why was Brown saying she was ‘on your side’ earlier? They’re just scars. She has a lot herself.” Damian asked, finding his voice.

“These are a different type of scars.” Tim said.

“Don’t patronise me, Drake.” Damian snapped. Tim raised his hands to shoulder height as a sign, showing he didn’t mean anything by it.

“Okay, sorry,” Tim apologised. “The difference between all the scars Stephanie has, is I gave myself these scars.”

Damian’s face was unreadable for a few seconds.

“Why?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at Tim, like he didn’t believe what Tim said. Tim sighed again, cursing himself internally.

“When Bruce died, I went through a really bad time emotionally. And it didn’t help that I felt betrayed that you were Robin and I wasn’t. I felt weak and that I didn’t want to live anymore. So I gave myself these scars.” Tim explained simply, skipping over the bad and gory details which he didn’t want to remember himself.

“Did it have something to do with Conner and your father?” Damian asked quietly. That surprised Tim, honestly. That Damian had a good enough grasp of human emotion to recognise grief.

“Yeah. It felt like all the people I loved had left me on top of everything else. But I’m alright now. And now you can get out my room and let me sleep.” Tim said, standing up and practically shoving Damian out of his room.

 

The next morning, Tim found an extra home-baked chocolate cookie waiting in the kitchen for him and he couldn’t stop the small smile gracing his features as he took a bite.

‘ _Maybe the demon-child does have a heart?_ ’ He thought idly as he finished it off and started fixing a small breakfast.


End file.
